We were now in our twelfth year; the baronet was gone abroad taking his son with him, and Agnes with her aunt, who had married a gouty old colonel, took up their abode at the castle. The colonel was an “Honourable,” but the very reverse of his lady or her brother; he was destitute of their pride, and I was frequently permitted to pass whole days at the castle in reading to and amusing him. In these pursuits Agnes was generally at my side when the absence of her aunt allowed it, and I number some of those hours as the happiest of my life. Her instructress was a mild and amiable woman, of Christian meekness and piety; she had drunk deep from the cup of sorrow, and there was a pensive melancholy imprinted on her countenance which powerfully interested the best feelings of the heart. Thus passed two happy years, during which I felt my soul more strongly linked with every thing that concerned the gentle Agnes. I was as yet unacquainted with the cause of these feelings, and the first time that the truth opened to my heart was on my fifteenth birth-day. My father, whom I had occasionally assisted in his labours, gave a little féte in remembrance of it. It was the height of summer; the most respectable youths and lasses in the village were assembled to a dance in the park. The colonel was wheeled to the spot in his garden-chair, and her aunt being absent on a visit, Agnes graced the festival. It was a happy and a lovely group beneath the wide-spreading branches of the trees, and when the dance commenced, Agnes became my partner. Oh, then I felt how precious she was to my happiness, as her light airy form was pressed in my arms! but when I contrasted the coarseness of my apparel with the delicate texture of her dress, a pang of deep humiliation stung me to the quick. At this moment, a young man in a travelling dress advanced towards us; it was Sir Edward’s son. His face was flushed with anger; he seized the arm of his sister with a wild impetuosity that caused her to cry out, and I immediately interfered; he raised his riding-whip and struck me--yes, struck me to the earth. I sprang upon my feet, but was instantly held fast and forced to the cottage, whilst Agnes was hurried away to the castle. Ah! then I felt what it was to love, and despair took possession of my mind; all other considerations seemed swallowed up, and I determined to fly from the place. Parents, kindred, all but Agnes were forgotten, and ere the dawn broke upon the cottage or the castle, I was far on my way from home.